Date Me

Me: You are so bad. You know she’s purposefully making you wait.

Riley: I know. But it’s fun. We had fun last night. Just making out is really fun. I think I tend to skip it because I want to get to the good stuff. But kissing is good stuff. At least it is with her.

Me: You’re getting all mushy.

An Eastbrooke girl.

10:30am

I interrupt the girls’ conversation, which has moved on to what kind of dresses they hope to find. “I got a car and driver for us, so that we wouldn’t have to worry about getting cabs, our luggage, or packages. Do you want to go to the loft now or should we start shopping?”

“Shopping!” everyone yells.

At the first dress shop, I’m helping A

“How are you and Ace? You haven’t really said anything.”

“I’m feeling a little guilty myself . . .”

“No! You had sex with him? I thought you were going to wait!”

“Oh, no. I just mean I let him, like . . .” She hems and haws, then kicks her foot into the ground. “I let him put his hand down my pants.”

“Oh, really? And?”

“I really liked it. I think that’s why I feel guilty. He also asked me out.”

“He did?! Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Do you think he only asked me because I let him?”

“Did you do anything else to him? Like more than you’ve done before?”

“No, why?”

“He asked you out because he likes you, not because you let him touch you. I’m so happy for you. Are you happy? I can’t believe you, of all people, haven’t put this on Facebook yet!”

“I know, weird, huh?”

“You can see why sometimes I want to keep things private, can’t you?”

I spot a gorgeous pink dress that is perfect for A

“Oh, look at this one! You have to try this on!”

“Yeah, I do. I love it. It’s sexy, but not too revealing.”

I flip it around. “But look at the back!” The back has a large triangular-shaped cutout that is sexy, but not blatant.

She hops up and down and claps. “I love that.” She grabs it from my hand and runs to the dressing room.

I follow her back as Maggie walks out in a simple black gown.

“Oh, Maggie, I like that one,” Ariela says.

I look at it critically as she asks, “What do you think, Keatyn?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly. I want to look amazing.”

“I’d say the top doesn’t fit you properly. It’s too loose. I think you would be constantly pulling it up. And the way it’s gathered here,” I point to her hip, “makes your hips look bigger than they are. It doesn’t flatter your hot body. I also think I’d like to see you in something besides black with your skin tone.”

“How about this one?” Peyton asks, holding out a strapless tiered dress in a deep navy blue.

“I like that one better! Try it on!”

A

“Then you should definitely get it,” Ariela says, walking out in another dress.

“Speaking of beautiful. That dress is like a dream,” Peyton says to Ariela, who is wearing a soft coral strapless gown with a thick band of silver beading sparkling at the waist.

Ariela looks good in anything she puts on, but this dress just isn’t her style. And based on the way she is looking at it in the mirror—shoulders shrugged and nose scrunched up—tells me she doesn’t like it either. “I don’t think this one is me. Do you want to try it on?”

“Yes!” Peyton practically screams.

Katie comes out in another dress that she’s rejecting. She’s in kind of foul mood. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.

She plops down next to me in a tight red dress that barely contains her boobs. “Dallas doesn’t want me.”

“Why do you think that?”

She purses her lips and pushes her hair behind one ear. “Last night. Things were fun. Like really fun. And I wanted to. And—I’m embarrassed to even say it—I tried. And he said no. Guys never say no.”

“Sometimes they do,” I say gently. “I think he really likes you. Maybe he wants it to be special the first time you do it. Like not just some romp in the bushes, you know?”

She lets out a sigh so big it causes one of her boobs to completely pop out of the dress. She looks down and laughs. “Probably not this dress, huh? So do you really think that’s it?”

“What did he tell you?”

“He didn’t explain. Just sort of moved away. Said he was tired. Stopped things pretty abruptly.”

“Why are you trying to go so fast with him? You’ve only been dating him, sort of, for like three days.”

“I’m tired of being a good girl all the time. I’m ready to get some experience, and I like Dallas. I really like him. I’ve crushed on him since school started.”

Maggie comes out in the navy dress at the same time Peyton walks out in the coral one. They both look stu

“Wow! You both look amazing!” Katie says.

“I can’t believe I found a dress so fast!” Peyton exclaims. “This is the one. It’s conservative, like they expect us to be, but I adore the bling at the waist. I feel like a goddess.”

“You look like one too,” I tell her. And she does. The color of it with her blonde hair and green eyes is amazing.

She smiles and literally lights up the room.

Maggie stands in front of the mirror. “So you all like this one?”

“It’s very different from Peyton’s but it’s amazing on you. The layers are flirty and fun, but the fit—the way it hugs your body, all the way down—makes it sexy. You look incredible.”

She cracks a naughty smile. “I think Parker will like it.”

“I think all the guys will like it,” A

“We did good here,” I say. “Maggie, A

They both nod in agreement.

We go to three more stores and try on a bunch more dresses.

Katie finds a shimmering black and gold sequined dress. I find a long, fitted gown that glides down my body like liquid gold. It would be great for a party back home, but after looking at the photos of the past Homecoming Court dresses and listening to everyone talk about the tradition, I really want to wear something appropriate.

I also find an adorable strapless burgundy gown with the cutest flouncy skirt. I buy it to save for another occasion, just because it is so damn cute, but the burgundy would have totally clashed with all the red in the stadium.

It’s weird.

I want to look amazing in my dress but, for the first time in my life, it feels okay to want to blend in. To be part of something bigger than me. I get Whitney’s wanting to stand out. I never want to look like anyone but me. But what I really want is for the alumni to look at me and say, There’s an Eastbrooke girl.

I look at my friends, who are oohing and ahhing over Ariela in a black gown with a soft flowing skirt, sweetheart neckline, and a beaded bodice, and realize that I’m really glad to be here.

Even with things a little up in the air with Dawson right now.

Even though I miss my family.

I feel happy.

I feel like I’ve made friends. Friends who are supportive of each other. Friends who seem to like me for me. Not because of what I wear or who my mom is. They just like me.

And it feels really good.

Dawson texts me just as we’re about to go shoe shopping.

Dawson: I know you’re shopping and won’t answer if I call, but please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. Cam said he talked to you last night. That he told you the truth.